The Job Hunt
by Touda
Summary: Kuchiki Byakuya's is now up! A series of oneshots based on the circulating pictures of the Gotei 13 members in real world clothing. Yaoi, het, lemon, humour, etc. Read each chapter disclaimer for individual details.
1. Abarai Renji

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM! They're owned by Kubo Tite and blah blah blah, you know the rest. No self-respecting mangaka would subject their creations to torture of this level. It's simply not done.

Warnings: Humour, yaoi, mental anguish of the Abarai variety, minor mentions of canon-esque happenings. Will not follow traditional, canon Bleach timeline.

Notes: Special thanks to my brother for suggesting Renji's place of employment. This one shot, and it will be a one shot this time, no exceptions, was inspired by the recent OP for the Bleach filler, showing the Gotei 13 members in living world style clothing. I wanted to suggest each of their respective job descriptions and situations. I will start with Renji and go through with the following as well, though not in this order: Byakuya, Hitsugaya, Ukitake, Ichimaru and my sacred little shinigami luff, Shiba Kaien. Keep in mind that none of these will follow canon to the strictest of degrees.

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Under the disapproving glare of his lover, Renji forged ahead with his appointed task, grumbling throughout the lengthy process. Had the man across from him been anyone else, the redhead would have scoffed in his face and walked away from the challenge. As it was, it seemed the esteemed Kuchiki heir had more sway over his life than the young fukutaichou had initially thought.

"Previous occupation? What the hell?"

Red eyes squinted to read the paper a second time and confused, he lifted his head to give a befuddled look to his lover.

"Naa, Byakuya. What's my previous occupation?"

Shuffling the proper sixth division paperwork together so the pile was again impeccable, the kenseikan-wearing nobleman sighed softly.

"You would have to put unemployed, would you not? You've never held a job in the living world before."

"Aa, I guess you're right."

He lowered his head and wrote the proffered word down, looking to the next question and openly snorting at its idiocy.

"'If a customer comes to you with a problem, what should you do?'" Smartly, Renji wrote the answer in and gave a commentary on it so that his lover would know what he was putting down. "'Tell the stupid bastard to get lost and to not waste my time with their bullshit.'"

An exasperated sigh caused the redhead to chuckle as he finished the rest of the questions and handed the paper back to his captain, smirking proudly.

"Piece of cake. I can fuckin' handle this."

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Beyond reason and responsibility, the slightly balding owner of the downtown Karakura nightclub accepted Renji's job application and through Urahara, arranged a meeting with the pony-tailed shinigami. The instructions on clothing and demeanor were followed to the T and with a smile of self-satisfaction; Kisuke unveiled the mirror for Renji to peer into, his casually dressed gigai staring back at him.

The blond shop owner had set up a clothing style that was borderline lewd, the bronzed skin of Renji's chest peeking through the tightly woven mesh undershirt, his nipples thankfully covered by a vest of a dark red material, almost a burgundy, its surface shimmering as if embroidered with jewels. The fukutaichou's pants were plain black denim, cut low to show off his belly button, though the mesh covered right to the waistline. The swordsman's hair was kept back in its usual tail but instead of his white headband, he had on a bandanna, folded to cover his forehead, in a shade that matched his vest.

The outfit, while striking, was quite revealing, the redhead's frontal tattoos showing through the thin netting, as well as those on his forehead, peeking out from under and from over the tied cloth. Smirking at himself in the mirror, Renji nodded his approval to Urahara, who then presented him with a thick-soled pair of oxblood cowboy boots. Style completed, the snarky young shinigami walked out into the open area of the shop to show off to his lover, the dark haired captain only rolling his eyes and snorting towards the banished taichou who appeared in the rear doorway.

"Nude, he would have been less obvious, Kisuke."

The hat toting former shinigami smiled sneakily and bowed, offering a tiny chuckle. "The goal wasn't to make him invisible, Kuchiki-san. He fits in with the crowd that frequents his place of employment."

"Hmm. Just assure me that he'll be safely employed there, not just being placed there as an item to be gawked at."

Urahara waved his hand noncommittally and again gave a small bow. "He'll be fine, Kuchiki-san. Trust me."

"Yeah, trust him, Byakuya. I wanna go out in this. It's so different than what I normally get to wear."

The elder man sighed and turned his back, heading to the small door, which led directly to Soul Society from the Urahara Shoten. "I'll be back in a week." He gave a pointed look to his lover. "Behave yourself, Renji. No accidents."

Lifting his hand in a mock salute, the redhead smiled and nodded. "Hai, taichou!"

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"...and then when they come in the door, just nod to them. Don't start up a conversation, 'specially not on Fridays. It gets fuckin' busy then and the people'll get mighty pissed off if they have to wait to get in."

Renji nodded eagerly to the ugly, somewhat greasy man in front of him, memorizing each little bit of information the club owner gave him.

"Since you've never done this before, I'll tell ya something. Working a nightclub's exciting, if ya don't try to be a wise guy and start shit just for the hell of it. You get me?"

He eyed the tall redhead and chuckled gratingly after the shinigami nodded.

"You're a quiet kid anyway, huh? That's good. The customers want to see hired muscle hanging around in case shit goes down. They don't wanna see them chatting up the ladies and ignoring their duties."

"Oh, well you won't have to worry about that, boss. I'm not exactly a ladies man."

The plump human turned and gave Renji a weird look, squinting slightly as if trying to decipher what he had just said.

"Not a ladies man? What are ya then? Calm gentleman? Fuckin' Casanova?"

The tattooed swordsman shook his head with a bit of a smile. "Something like that."

Clapping the boy on the back, the elder man laughed out loud, guffawing noisily as he walked the redhead to the bar and offered him a drink.

"You're better lookin' than the last brat I had workin' for me. He was a scrawny little bastard. Couldn't hold his own in a fight worth shit."

Immediately, Renji came to like the man, his thug-like attitude and general dislike of people appealing to his former eleventh squad tendencies.

"I'm no pushover, boss. I can hold my own in a goddamn fight."

Lifting his beer and clanking it against Renji's, the club owner nodded his head in agreement.

"Good man. You're gonna need that attitude come Friday."

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Six days passed and through a haze of cigarette smoke and crude language, Renji found a world he thought he would never see again after leaving the eleventh division.

Despite being a night club for the trendiest of club goers on weekends, during the week it was a slum of drunks and alcoholics, most of them men and all of them resembling people the redhead had dealt with before. Most notably, his former captain, one Zaraki Kenpachi.

He was seated at the door for most of the morning and afternoon, greeting the customers with a brief hello and only stepping down from the high stool when he saw a particularly dangerous looking individual, giving him a light pat down as his boss had instructed. In three days, he had found two large hunting knives and four guns, the latter of which he found exceptionally interesting. Guns, however lengthy in their creation, didn't exist in Soul Society.

"Oi, Renji!" The owner called from the bar. "Come over here for a sec!"

The fukutaichou nodded and shuffled himself past tables of empty bottles and spilled liquor to lean on the heavily polished bar, nodding politely to a customer who weaved dangerously close to being flat out drunk.

"What's up?"

"I need you to escort this man out. He's too far gone, plus he has no more money left and because of my insurance policy, I can't let him stay if he's not gonna buy anymore booze. He's a hazard, ya know?"

"Hai. No worries." He stepped back and waited as the inebriated customer stepped down from his stool and promptly toppled, immediately being caught under the arms by the strong vice captain, Renji giving a light grunt as the man's weight strained his back. Obviously unable to stand and partially unconscious from his drunk state, the man could hardly argue as Renji dragged him out the front door and propped him against the wall, waiting patiently for the owner to call him a cab.

"S'not what I thought'd happen tonight..." The drunk mumbled, punctuating the sentence with a loud, grossly unneeded burp.

"Jeez, buddy. Leave some for the fish next time, huh? You're fuckin' wasted." The pony-tailed bouncer in training commented. "Worse'n Ikakku after a long day of fighting."

The yellow taxi pulled up to the curb and with some effort, Renji piled him in and nodded to the driver, who already knew the address to deliver his charge to, having recognized the drunk right away.

"Thanks. You're Taka's new kid, eh? Nice work. He usually brings the guys out himself because that other bouncer of his was totally useless."

"Yeah, he said as much."

The young fukutaichou backed away from the car and headed back inside as it merged with traffic, giving a small look around the street before ducking in, returning to his post after nodding to the owner. Beside him on the small table he used to prop his elbow on during slow times, sat a cold beer on a damp coaster. He smiled and picked it up, giving a short wave to the elder man.

Hours later, when the sun had been down for ages and the last customer was poured into a cab and sent off, Renji and his employer gave the place a once over and locked up, Takahiro-san walking to his car while the redhead started off on his short walk to the Urahara Shoten. He had been offered a ride every night that week and even though the summer night's had gotten cooler, his wardrobe had been added to by the blond shop owner, now including heavy sweaters and a dark windbreaker he was particularly fond of. Car's, in Renji's mind, were a death trap. Walking, or even running, were his favourite mode of transportation and would always remain thus.

He arrived at the former shinigami's store just after three in the morning and slipped in unnoticed, staying in his gigai as he showered and did the rest of his tedious cleaning ritual, crawling into his bed less than a half hour later and immediately falling asleep, ignorant of the pair of dark eyes that watched him from the window.

Byakuya shook his head slightly and hopped down to go back home, having only appeared to check on his lover, as he had done every night that week, still going unnoticed by the loudmouthed fukutaichou. He must have really been tired, to have forgotten to check for intruders, as he did every night in Soul Society. Managing a tiny smile as he listened to the other snore loudly, the regal Kuchiki headed back to his own plush bed, inwardly laughing at Urahara's plight of having to listen to the redhead's snoring.

He, himself on the other hand, had been sleeping extremely well without the benefit of Renji's sawed log symphony.

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"Shove it up your ass!"

The receiver of the nasty insult bade a hasty retreat out of the club as Renji brandished a baton given to him by his boss. The man had insisted that the redhead would need it on Friday nights but he had doubted it right up until a rather large man had to be kicked out and had refused. He had taken two swings at the vice captain and gained himself a punch in the gut and a bleeding goose egg from the blunt end of the baton. Three tables, all filled with good-looking singles, cheered him on and even ordered a round of drinks for the young bouncer. He had politely declined, as he was told to. What kind of work could he do while drunk?

One especially beautiful single at the closest table reached his hand out just before midnight and groped the shinigami openly, winking mischievously when he got a surprised glare from the tall redhead.

"Naa, Renji. Why dontcha sit down here with us? It's quiet now and you look like you could use a drink."

The now blushing swordsman shook his head, too worried about losing his bet with Byakuya. He could hold the job down for a week. He could.

"Nah. Takahiro-san says I can't while it's so packed. What'd happen if a fight broke out and I was too shitfaced to know better?"

The young blond customer laughed quietly and waved him off, knowing that despite his inclination towards badgering the lovely bouncer into a drink or five, he would lose to the man's sensibilities. He had been there long enough that night to know when an argument was hardly worth starting.

"Hai, hai. Go back to your stool then. I think I'm gonna head out now anyway. It's fuckin' late."

Cheekily, Renji reached down and picked up the man's beer bottle, barely an inch of the amber liquid left in the bottom, and polished it off, slamming the now empty item back down.

"Happy?"

Another grope. "Now I am."

"Wise ass."

He got a wink and a rather rude gesture from the other man's tongue and he blushed a bit more, turning away and flipping him off as he had seen so many of the customers do, figuring it to be the ultimate insult, as it had started more than a few fights over the past few days.

It was his last night and though he was loathe to give it up now that he had been accepted by the owner and his patrons, the redhead knew that it would have to end sometime. He sighed and propped his feet up on the chair rungs, crossing his arms over his chest. The sounds of thick bass beat pumped through his body and he caught himself nodding along to it, smiling at himself as he found a music style he liked. After days of slow rhythm and blues tracks coming from the rather beat up jukebox, now there was a live DJ with a heavy hand, allowing the music to thump as loudly as it wanted.

Again, the night ended and Renji stayed even later to help with the massive mess, beer bottles and other litter covering the floor, changing the normally clean but inheritantly slummy space into a sty. Takahiro thanked him when he left and handed him an envelope just before getting into his car, smiling more warmly than the shinigami had ever seen, his face usually pulled into a scowl of some sort.

"Ya did good, kid. The guy I set up the interview said you were heading back home after a week, but if you wanna keep on with me when ya get back, feel free to gimme a call, ok?"

Renji nodded and gave a slight bow before tearing off in the direction of home, clacking the pavement in his boots. He'd be in bed late but it was worth it. He actually felt good about having a job. What made humans hate them so much? He got to meet new people. He got fresh air, when the door opened anyway. He wasn't even expected to be on his feet.

"Tch. They've got it made..."

-----------------------

Renji thought the Urahara Shoten would be quiet by this time of night and stepped lightly into the building, avoiding the front of the shop and heading directly for the living quarters at the back, this time not as tired as he had been the previous nights, a smile on his face despite the hour.

In his hand he held the envelope Takahiro-san had given him, his name written messily across the front. He set it down on the small table in his room and undressed, forgoing a bath because he hadn't truly gotten very dirty during the night, only bothering to wash his hair in the bathroom sink due to its accumulated cigarette smell. Scented now in whatever the blond shopkeeper used as soap, uncertain as to what the liquid actually was but enjoying the way it lathered, Renji slid into bed with a sigh, remaining naked as the cool sheets felt good against his slightly flushed skin.

Again, he neglected to look around the room before bed and was startled by rustling in the window behind him, his head tipped back to stare at the form of his lover sitting neatly in the sill, the captain's form upside down but just as lovely as ever. The redhead rolled onto his side and propped himself up onto an elbow, smiling crookedly and speaking quietly.

"You're early, Byakuya. I have until daybreak to come home."

"I'm only here to see that you came back to the store safely."

The young fukutaichou scoffed quietly and rolled onto his back again, stretching his arms over his head and still watching the elder man, smiling a smug little smile when the nobleman slid off of the sill, undressed and lifted the bed sheets to slide under as well. Renji just smiled and spread his legs as the loving taichou found his way between them, leaning down to nuzzle across the gigai'd shinigami's chest.

"I've missed you this past week, Renji. I've been able to sleep because of the quiet but I was unable to satisfy myself without you."

The younger man blinked somewhat before winding his arms around the other's shoulders and pulling him up for a kiss, moaning into it loudly enough to be heard but not outside of the room, Byakuya immediately noticing the taste of alcohol on the redhead, however faint it may be.

He pulled away and savoured the breathless look on his subordinate's face before attacking his neck with light nibbles, eagerly sliding one hand down to fondle the redhead, earning himself another moan while he smiled at how easily the gigai form could be aroused. Renji on the other hand, hadn't had the chance to work the body as he would have done to his own and red eyes opened wide as he breathed heavily, a light blush colouring his cheeks.

"Fuck, that was fast…"

"Mmm, indeed. I think I may come to enjoy you in a gigai, Renji."

A matching feral smile appeared on the younger shinigami's face before he ground his hips upwards against his lover's, causing the elder man to moan as well, a shiver starting at the base of Renji's spine and coasting up to his shoulders from the sound.

"Does that mean you're gonna fuck me, Byakuya? Because I could really use it after such a long week without."

His answer was a light growl as the Kuchiki heir sat back on his knees and then got to his feet, padding to the bathroom and fetching the cold cream Renji had neglected to use on his face, something the redhead normally used religiously to prevent himself from breaking out. It was a special blend of ingredients that was made in the depths of Rukongai and despite the offer of properly made creams from Matsumoto-fukutaichou and her stash of human make-up, Renji still preferred the flowery scented stuff from the slums.

When he returned, Renji was on all fours with his head and chest down on the pillows, busily stroking himself and rocking gently as he moaned, his head turned to be seen just as the dark haired captain stepped in. Quick strides brought Byakuya to the boy's behind and he kneeled against it with a grunt, squeezing the right cheek firmly before slipping the arm under the other's belly and making him sit back up to a more level position.

Complying wordlessly, Renji nudged back against his lover with a breathy moan and when he heard the flick of the lotion's cap he started to stroke himself a bit faster, eager to be fucked by the regal captain and somewhat impatient about how things were progressing. The feel of cool fingers against his hole kept him quiet and he parted his legs a bit further, biting his bottom lip as he fought the urge to moan out loud. There was no need to wake the shop owner or his staff with his slutty sounds, now was there?

"Gods, Byakuya. Move faster. I'm gonna fucking stain the sheets as it is."

"Patience, Renji. I'm in the mood to savour this."

"But, I really need yo-…mmmm right there. Fuck yeah…"

The sixth division captain smirked and continued with his mind numbing assault, leaning to the side to set the lotion down and with a practiced hand, slid his fingers from the boy, gave himself a light stroke to coat his arousal and with one hand holding himself in place and the other on Renji's hip, he plunged into the tight depths, suppressing a groan as he was gripped so exquisitely.

The hotheaded fukutaichou however, moaned loudly but was muffled by the pillows he had again lowered himself to, his right hand still working his cock while the left curled around the fluffy objects, his position giving the most satisfaction and stimulation, allowing his lover to thrust in deeply and take him as hard as he deemed fit.

Which this night, seemed hard enough to make the redhead whimper slightly, the slap of skin against skin unmistakable, even outside the screened bedroom. Deep in his mind, Byakuya could feel the suppressed reiatsu of Urahara, as well as Tessai, the blond's still in its dormant state however, suggesting that he was still asleep. He knew that the polite Tessai wouldn't interfere. It was Kisuke he worried about.

Leaning forward, Byakuya draped himself over Renji's back and kissed between his shoulder blades as he took him languorously, snapping his hips right at the end of each slow thrust and slipping his right hand down to help in the redhead's mission, waiting a brief second as the other removed his own hand and allowed the captain to do it for him, keeping his balance with the now freed arm.

It was hardly the vicious undertaking Renji has expected but it was still delicious, his body rocking back to meet each forward movement from the other and his moans grew steadily louder, forcing Byakuya to muffle him with a hand over his mouth.

The length of time both men had to go without sexual consummation took its toll as the younger shinigami sucked in a deep breath and shuddered suddenly, releasing onto the clean sheets below, his lover's actions gaining speed as he let the warmly pulsing member go and sat back on his knees, now with both hands on the tattooed swordsman's hips. He took him violently, viciously, acting strangely out of character but it was hardly questioned by the plundered vice captain.

Silently, the elder man came, holding still as he let his body finish itself off, enjoying the feel of the wet heat that surrounded his cock as he filled the younger man with his seed, wincing a bit before pulling out and again moving to the bathroom, the sound of running water following right after.

Renji stayed in the position he had held for so long, somewhat loathe to lie down on the soiled sheets and waiting patiently for his lover to return with the inevitable washcloth. Right on time, the dark haired captain came back and lovingly cleaned the boy up, shooing him off of the sheets and pulling over the heavy top blanket for them to snuggle beneath.

The washcloth was left in the linen pile and with a heavy sigh and a light kiss to Renji's forehead, the regal Kuchiki got under the blanket and wrapped his arms around the redhead's waist, intent on sleep for the remainder of the night.

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That morning, just after the sun rose, Renji's eyes peeked open and he yawned through a languid stretch, looking to the bedroom door where he caught his lover returning from the hall, the captain fully dressed and looking as immaculate as ever. In his hands he held a cup of tea and the envelope Takahiro-san had given Renji the night before, its flap open as if it had already been peered into.

"Oi, what's in there?"

The dark haired shinigami handed it down to his fukutaichou and sat beside him before handing him the tea as well, watching with a tiny smile as the redhead struggled with both items, eager to see the envelope's contents and just as eager to drink the sweet smelling concoction.

Once sipping the tea and setting it back down, he managed to pull the thick stack of items out and peered at them, recognizing it as the living world's currency. There was just over seven hundred dollars inside, so a weeks worth of pay. Renji smiled and slid away from his lover to stand.

"I can't take this with me, can I? It's not the same as our money."

"You can exchange it with Urahara for Soul Society currency."

"Perfect! And I know just where I'm gonna spend it too."

Ignoring the need to get dressed, Renji left the room and walked to the main sitting room where he apprehended the shopkeeper and exchanged the money amidst exclamations about his good work ethic and how late he had come home each night. Fighting the urge to yell at the blond and tell him that his schedule was unavoidable, Renji picked up the exchanged monies and went back to his room, ignoring the childish titters from the children as he looked down suddenly and remembered that he was naked.

Back with his lover, Renji switched into soul form and left the gigai where it lay, knowing that the former shinigami would inspect it and modify it for the next user anyway, his belongings picked up and hefted onto his shoulders for the trip back home.

"Well, I'm ready. I've got some spending to do."

Byakuya blinked and followed him towards the western gate, trying to imagine what the young vice captain could possibly spend over seven hundred human dollars on in Soul Society.

"What exactly are you going to do with that amount of money, Renji?"

The redhead turned to the elder man and smirked deviously, stepping into the brightly lit gate.

"I'm gonna go home first, drop this shit off, then head to the tavern."

"You're going to…the tavern?"

"Yup. I just spent seven fucking days in a bar and wasn't allowed to get shitfaced even once. That's a disgrace." He grinned cutely, trying to soothe his lover's obviously confused state. "'Sides, I deserve to celebrate. I won the challenge."

"Hmm. I suppose you did."

"What did you say I'd get if I won?"

The formal Kuchiki blinked suddenly, unsure of how to answer.

"We never agreed upon anything because I was certain that you wouldn't complete the mission."

"Maa, you've got no faith in me."

"I'll think of something. Or you can suggest something that will have to be approved by me."

"Approved?" The redhead yelled, stepping out into Seireitei's downtown. "Fuck that."

"I'm serious, Renji. I'm not going to allow you to be captain, or anything as equally ludicrous."

The younger shinigami slinked closer and whispered in the shorter man's ear, giving the lobe a tiny lick before walking off in the direction of his own home.

"I think I'm gonna enjoy thinking of something. Clear your calendar, taichou. You're gonna need some time off…"


	2. Shiba Kaien

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM! –being held hostage by rabid Kaien fans- Send the ransom in the form of paper Soul Society money. In small non-consecutive bills. kthnxbai

Warnings: Hetsecks. THAT'S RIGHT. I wrote hetsecks. But, it's brief and non-descriptive. Don't worry. Humour. Will not follow canon Bleach timeline. This is based during Kaien's time as the thirteenth squad's vice captain and as such, contains spoilers for those who are ignorant of his situation, BUT, big but, I've altered it to be during the living world's present time, even though what happens to him happens before then.

Notes: This is part two of my Job Hunt series. Shiba Kaien strikes me as a very outgoing and immediately likable person so his job was inspired as such. I actually spent one entire summer under the instruction of a man just like him. Had I known at the time who Kaien was, I probably would have married the cutie I worked with.

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"Oi, watch your step!"

The young child bent on walking into the path of a group of boys playing soccer stopped dead, turning to face the man who had called out to him, wide eyes staring with a frightened look.

"You have to be more careful!" The man chided, lifting his right hand to playfully ruffle the boy's hair. "Why don't you ask them nicely if you can play too? It'll keep you out of trouble."

The red-haired child suddenly smiled brightly and nodded, turning away to complete the offered task.

Shiba Kaien smiled and moved back to the wooden picnic table he had been sitting at, a can of soda keeping his paperwork company. The dark haired shinigami lifted it to his lips and noisily guzzled it, keeping his eyes on the surrounding landscape, a dozen and a half children needing his protection as they frolicked in the sun.

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Having accepted a job from his taichou to venture into the living world and live there as one of their own, Kaien had quickly found the job in the local newspaper, a small ad asking for capable men and women to be counselors at a day camp in Karakura Town. He was immediately liked by the camp's coordinator and was hired on the spot once he had scheduled a proper interview. Thrilled with his new endeavor, the thirteenth squad fukutaichou went home to celebrate alone, sitting in just a pair of relaxed fit pants with a cold beer in his hand, feeling satisfied with himself after sending a notice home to his captain and his wife, telling them the good news.

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The next morning, dressed in light shorts and a t-shirt, an outfit the normally hakama wearing shinigami had found exceptionally comfortable, he made his way to the large park where the camp was held, smiling at the various families that lingered about, waiting to register their children. One family in particular caught his eye and he walked over to them, lifting a hand in greeting and crouching down as the young daughter came running towards him with a bright smile.

"Kaien-chan! Kaien-chan!"

His arms held out, the dark haired swordsman scooped her up and stood to swing her about, enjoying the laughter in his ear and the happy looks on the parents' faces. He had a way with kids, there was no doubting that. He only wished that Miyako could see him as he set the girl back down and was immediately latched onto by three more of the cheery faced youngsters, each one squealing to be heard over the other as they clambered for the counselor's attention.

Excusing himself politely, Kaien went to the man meeting area and sat down under the flag bearing his group's name, a large crescent moon adorning the hand painted item. It was their first assignment after becoming a camp team, to create a flag that would represent their shared interests. Each child, the relaxed Shiba noticed, enjoyed things to do with astronomy. Good enough for his own tastes as well, as he had always been fascinated by the night sky.

"So, is your troupe ready for the games today, Kaien?" A pretty young counselor asked, stepping over to him and grinning brightly. "My team's ready."

He looked over and saw each of her team members sitting neatly in rows behind the flag, immediately lifting his arm to beckon to his own, the little bodies running and making a general nuisance of themselves before settling down under the shinigami's intense get-yourself-quiet-right-now gaze.

"I guess mine's ready too. Bring whatever you've got, Miki-chan."

She snorted softly and moved back to stand before her post, awaiting orders from the head of the camp, Kaien doing the same and smirking lightly as two of her children started a bicker which quickly caught her attention.

"Looks like what you've got is a bunch of rowdy brats."

"...urusai. Mind your own team."

The dark haired shinigami gave a tight salute and turned to his team, smiling broadly at them as the camp leader called a start to the games.

"Yosh! Let's go team!"

"Hai, Kaien-taichou!"

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After an entire summer of spending time with other people's children and families, the bright-eyed shinigami clocked out for the last day, hugging his troupe and offering smiles and friendly bows to the parents. Everyone went home happy and although he was somewhat sad because he was leaving them all behind, Kaien knew that the mission had been completed successfully and that in a matter of minutes, he would be home with his wife and life in Soul Society would go on as planned.

He had used the Urahara Shoten as his gateway but had chosen to rent an apartment instead of live with the odd shop owner and he stepped through it after thanking the blond, a brilliant smile on his face, his eyes scrunched up from the width of it. Kisuke smiled back and returned to his leisurely duties, only peering back to make sure the doorway closed behind the thirteenth squad vice captain.

A squeal and a shout of happiness greeted him when he appeared through the glowing shoji screens in the main hall of the thirteenth division, the fourth and fifth seats chattering on about his trip, with the smaller of the two, Kiyone, hanging off of his arm like an unwanted accessory. She was pulled off and given a light smack from her close friend, the bearded shinigami bowing politely and forcing her to do the same as their white haired leader came in to greet his subordinate.

Immediately, Kaien noticed how pale the elder man again seemed, hoping that during his time away, the soft spoken captain would have rested himself and gained his strength back. Though there was no denying the power behind the sudden hug he found himself in, his own arms winding lovingly around Ukitake's waist. He always enjoyed an embrace from his valiant but ill taichou and even under the watchful eyes of their seated members, the two men hardly denied their want for personal comfort.

"It's wonderful to see you again, Kaien-dono."

"Maa, I told you not to call me that anymore, taichou. I'm just Kaien, ok? I hate all that formal stuff."

"Hmm. So you've told me many times in the past. I still prefer to recognize you as the nobility you are. I hardly refer to Kuchiki-san as Rukia."

"I guess. Maybe you're just a little too uptight, taichou."

The dark haired man winked and scooped up his bag of trip belongings, immediately opening it up and digging out a small wrapped package for the elegant captain, handing the heavy object over with a playful smile.

"What is this, Kaien?" He smiled, though frowning on the inside for not addressing the younger man properly. "I didn't ask for anything to be brought back."

"Nah, it's just something I got for you. I got something nice for Miyako too. Go on and open it."

Touched, Ukitake slid his thumb under the taped flap and with a bit of a tug, flicked the paper open and found a well-tied bundle of bamboo stalks, each of them trimmed to sprout at proper right angles so they would compliment each other. He lifted them a bit higher and counted. There were fourteen.

"You bought me fourteen bamboo stalks, Kaien?"

"Yeah! Because your given name means fourteen sons and your family name means bamboo. Pretty clever, huh?"

The elder man laughed until he started to cough forcefully, easily bending over to set the package down and cough into a small cloth tugged from his inside sleeve pocket, discreetly wiping his mouth with it and stuffing it back inside, desperate to keep his young subordinate from seeing the blood that coloured the pale material.

"Thank you, Kaien. I'm very touched. And speaking of Miyako, where is she, Sentarou?"

The eager-to-please fourth seat smiled broadly and pointed towards the front walk as the main doors hadn't been closed yet, the longhaired third seat walking briskly to see her husband after his three-month mission.

"Miyako-chan!"

He squealed as he ran towards her, his arms out and face alight with love and excitement, right away scooping her up into a tight hug and turning enough to swing her around in the wide hall, burying his face in her long hair when he stopped.

Polite as ever but just as excited, the elegant woman held her husband's face in both hands and gently kissed his forehead, blushing slightly from the simple gesture, their audience watching on with expectant, happy eyes.

"It's so nice to see you, Kaien. I've missed you dearly."

"Me too! Just…about you. I didn't miss myself."

He laughed then, a cheerful, lilting noise that made the beautiful young vice captain blush even more brightly, her own smile widening before the eldest Shiba slipped his right hand into her left and waved back with the other, starting to walk out of the building.

"See you tomorrow, taichou! I'm taking Miyako home!"

Kiyone, vigilant as ever, snatched up his packsack and ran with it to hand it over to him, smiling softly and bowing to the other female shinigami before scurrying back to their captain's side, as eager to help him as she was to help his playful, somewhat eccentric fukutaichou. She sighed once regaining her place beside Sentarou, her hands lifted and clasped beside her head.

"They're so cute together! I wish I could find love as adorable as that!"

A groan came from beside her as the bearded fourth seat barely dealt with her rambling, a soft sigh of tolerance and understanding from her other side, a warm hand resting on her head before the taller Gotei 13 member turned to walk back to his chambers.

From across the courtyard and echoing in through the still open doors, came Kaien's voice, a bellowing only he could muster and one that only he was seemingly allowed to do without a reprimand.

"Baka! We're married! You're gonna see this for years to come! Get over it!"

In the privacy of their own home, little changed other than Kaien's voraciousness, his hands wandering nearly the minute the door was closed behind them and Miyako had taken her sword off. She squeaked softly as she was lifted off of her feet and carried to the bedroom, certain of what lay ahead and prepared for it, having wanted her husband on more than one occasion during his absence.

The speed at which he undressed made her laugh, her own clothes taken off quickly but not alarmingly fast, his well muscled form mounting her almost immediately, slim legs spread and arms circling his neck to pull him down closer as they both moaned deeply, Kaien with his face buried between her breasts and Miyako with her head tipped back comfortably.

It was a strange thing, for the two shinigami to have been together for so long and to not have ever conceived a child, both of them knowing that it was indeed possible, but unable to figure out why they couldn't. In the end though, it mattered little as he quickened his pace and she cried out her ecstasy amidst grunts from the elder Shiba, his lithe form collapsing atop hers and seconds later, his peaceful snoring filled the slightly muggy room.

Before she fell asleep, Miyako wondered silently to herself, her hands rubbing along his back before he unconsciously rolled over onto his side, freeing her from his oppressing weight.

She was happy as the third seat in the thirteenth squad. She was happy with being married to its vice captain. But their captain was the person she worried most about. Perhaps it was her childlike nature that made her look to him as the father she needed when her own father she could hardly remember. Maybe it was the delicate way she saw him move as he coughed and politely wiped his mouth. She agonized needlessly over his health and once finally falling asleep, dreamt of lightning filled sky and the white haired shinigami in a rain soaked haori, shouting orders to her oddly sleep addled brain.

The next morning began like any other, other than the fact that Kiyone was at their door bright and early, even before the sun had risen. In her arms she carried a summons for Kaien only, giving instruction to Miyako that she could join the rest of the squad for their daily duties as usual. Nodding, the dark haired fukutaichou took the thick scroll and headed to the center of Seireitei, where he would get his formal orders appraised by Genryuusai-dono himself.

Upon entering the large meeting hall, he bowed politely and stood at attention as the feeble but immensely powerful captain commander spoke.

"Your duties in the thirteenth division took you to the living world, Shiba-fukutaichou. I am told that you completed your mission successfully. What details do you have to give, besides those that will be written in your reports?"

The dark haired vice captain smiled a bit, knowing full well that the elder man liked him, having told him on many occasions that the young Shiba clan member was as aloof and alive as he himself was in a forgotten lifetime.

"Just that children are as rambunctious as ever, Genryuusai-dono. Kinda like me when I was a kid, ne?"

The wrinkled brow lifted as a tiny smile peeked its way past the man's lengthy facial hair.

"You were a handful. Your mother and father both came to me for advice. They were relieved when your brother and sister did not turn out quite so…"

"…uppity?"

"That is most likely the best description that could be given."

The younger swordsman smiled and brushed an errant piece of hair from his pant leg.

"So, did you have anything else to tell me, Genryuusai-dono? I've got morning training to get to. Taichou's probably not feeling well today. It's kinda muggy outside."

"No, you may go. Give my regards to Ukitake-taichou. I will expect your mission reports by the end of the week."

Kaien lifted his hand and gave a small salute before bounding away in a swish of hakama and kimono, his voice carrying in the overly ornate meeting hall.

"Hai! No worries!"

"He is too the strongest!"

"Is not! Taichou's much stronger. He's just sick a lot!"

What the young vice captain walked into was hardly what he wanted, already feeling the slight twitch of irritation pinging at his temples.

"Will the both of you cut it out? What's so important that you have to argue about it right outside taichou's door?"

Kiyone and Sentarou stared up from where she had her arm circling the man's neck and his right fist was lifted in a threat, both shinigami grinning adorably as they tried to shake off their fighting in front of the snarling fukutaichou.

"Kaien-dono! Ano…we were just trying to decide who was a strongest between you and Ukitake-taichou. I thought you were." The girl nodded cutely.

"But I thought taichou was when he's not sick! He's one of the best captains in the Gotei 13. Everyone knows that!"

Kaien pinched the bridge of his nose and moved quickly, thumping both of them hard on the tops of their heads, earning grunts of pain that echoed in the corridor, the unmistakable sound of rustling coming from within the ill shinigami's chambers.

"You're both on probation starting today! I need the barracks cleaned out. Top to bottom. Together. And if I hear arguments between you two, even one, you'll both be on latrine duty!"

The fourth and fifth seats saluted and ran off without question, each one taking turns as they punched the other in the arm, keeping quiet and only grunting with exertion from each blow. The now less annoyed Shiba turned to the slowly opening double doors with a wide smile and was rewarded by a tiny grin from the white haired captain, Kaien's adorable face immediately trying to apologize for the others' rudeness.

"Ah, gomen, taichou. They were just being themselves."

A light yawn and a cough later, Ukitake smiled back, gesturing for the younger man to join him within.

"I'm making tea. Please come inside."

"Ah, hai."

The inner rooms, while large and somewhat cluttered, were neatly furnished, each tabletop adorned with well loved personal items and each sitting area stuffed with plush pillows. The younger shinigami chose his usual spot, the medium length divan that sat across from his captain's seat, his legs crossed as he plopped himself down and wriggled to get more comfortable amongst the fluffy pillows.

"So, what's up, taichou?"

Ukitake stood beside the low table and poured them both a cup of steaming jasmine tea, a delicacy the elder man regularly had brought to him by his younger subordinates when they ventured into the living realm, the dark haired swordsman taking it eagerly and sipping it before resting the small cup atop his left knee.

Sitting before tasting his own tea, the thirteenth division captain smiled a bit more broadly and gently fingered the hot cup before setting it back down.

"Nothing really. Just happy to see you in good spirits, Kaien. I trust everything is all right with Miyako?"

The tiny blush on the overly happy vice captain's face did not go unnoticed by his captain, a knowing chuckle filling the room before a quietly murmured "Urusai." caused Jyuushiro to laugh outright, the sound compounding to create a loud cough. Kaien was by his side instantly and was patting him on the back, slowing to a gentle rub between his shoulder blades. The elder man calmed and turned to smile warmly, earning himself a relieved look from his young subordinate.

"Thank you. It has been happening less often but still, it sneaks up on me when I least expect it."

"Maa, no worries, taichou. Just making sure you'll live long enough to see my kids."

Reaching for his tea, the white haired captain stared for a moment.

"You and Miyako plan on having children? When is this coming to light?"

"Hopefully in the spring. We're kinda hoping to get more of a start on it in the coming weeks."

Knowingly, Ukitake nodded, understanding the need to keep one's name alive and to enjoy the entirety of one's life. He had passed on the need for both himself, once upon a time, and now in the depths of many hundreds of years in Soul Society, Jyuushiro found himself somewhat jealous of Kaien's eagerness.

"I'm very excited for you, Kaien. I'm sure your children will grow up as dominant and proud as Miyako and yourself." He gave a bit of a sly look. "And probably just as obnoxious as you once were, ne? I remember the days when you were only a seventh seat. Your pranks were the talk of the captain's meetings. Did you know that?"

"...no. But I kinda figured. Afterwards, when the fukutaichou meeting was over and we waited outside for you guys, they all kinda stared at me. Komamura-taichou and Kyouraku-taichou used to snicker at me when they passed."

Lifting his cup, the young fukutaichou polished off his tea and slammed it down on the wooden table, immediately standing and giving a salute.

"Well, I've wasted enough of your time, taichou. I'm gonna head out. I've gotta go make sure Sentarou and Kiyone do what I told them to."

Nodding, Ukitake allowed it.

"Of course. They're wonderful at what they do but when placed together, they do tend to cause a bit of a ruckus."

Giving a bit of a snort, the short haired shinigami was on his way, his hakama slapping noisily as he threw the doors open and ran for the main barracks, waving playfully at those who acknowledged him on the way.

From the door, Ukitake watched him, having risen to see his beloved vice captain go. He wasn't in love with him, but in some strange way, he felt protective of him. He was a shining star in Jyuushiro's world and when he sparkled, like he just did before leaving, it made the elder man remember his astronomy classes, a millennia ago.

His grizzled old teacher had told the class, that even though stars seem to live forever, the time will come when one day, they shine so brilliantly that they're more luminous than those that surround them, and then they die.

It was never a gentle or fading death. Their brilliance would die suddenly, but those around them remained forever moved by the suddenness of their demise.


	3. Ichimaru Gin

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM!

Warnings: Adult language, adult situations. Hilarity. Living-world humour. Shorter than my other offerings, but simply because these were meant to be drabble one-shots, not full-length chapters.

Notes: This is the third installment of my 'Job Hunt' stories. This time, it's Ichimaru Gin's turn and since I saw a man late one night that greatly resembled him, his job description has been created as such. Special thanks again to my brother, for giving me the idea for Gin's marketing skills.

----------------------------

"Are you sure you want to hire him, sir?"

The manager of the local television station nodded and shuffled his papers, a picture of his new employee on the front page, paper clipped to the man's resume.

"He's got the perfect face for TV. He smiles a lot, his voice is clear and he's apparently a specialist in knives and other cutting objects."

The balding man's assistant squinted in doubt and snatched the papers up, reading them over and snorting out loud.

"Says he's skilled in swordsmanship, sir."

"Whatever. It's close enough. Do you want to take the midnight to one shift in front of the camera?"

"…no."

"Then he's hired. Call him to come in for tomorrow night. Maybe about ten-ish. He needs to be briefed early, then shown what he's to do."

"…hai."

----------------------------

The diligent but skeptical assistant watched as their new hire came in, followed closely by an attractive but somewhat timid looking blond, the boy carrying a duffel bag and smiling through a blush each time the obviously older man looked back to him. The set was all ready to go for the show and Ichimaru Gin smiled broadly as he greeted his employer.

"Ohayo, taichou! Do you mind if I call you taichou? It's kind of a habit of mine."

The rotund station manager shook his head and laughed quietly.

"No, of course not. You're doing us a favour by working the late shift, so you can call me whatever you like."

An excited nod. "Taichou it is then!"

The living man smiled and looked to Kira, earning himself a slight nod and a turn of the boy's head, obviously not interested in conversation with a stranger.

"So, what am I gonna be doing? I'm so excited!"

Thrilled with the silver haired man's eagerness to start, the man gestured to his assistant, who walked the pair back to a set dressed to look like a lavish kitchen, various bowls of fruit and vegetables placed in high bowls on the counters, one entire surface taken up by a carefully placed display of knives and shears.

"You're going to be selling these. I'm sure you've heard of infomercials before, right?"

Though he hadn't, Gin nodded and waved his hand noncommittally, acting as if the boy had insulted his intelligence.

"Of course! That's where a person sells things to a watching audience."

He was ad-libbing, seeing the seats set up for the live audience and putting two and two together, happy with himself as the rather arrogant assistant nodded, walking over to a display of scissors.

"Exactly. Now, the teleprompter there-" He pointed to a camera directly aimed at the counter they were currently standing in front of, "-will tell you exactly what you need to say during the company's ad. Otherwise, you're meant to say whatever you feel about the items."

Gin was beside himself with excitement, a calming hand resting on his right elbow as his young lover tried to keep his overly interested attitude from causing a problem.

"Other than that, it's all fool proof. Don't cut yourself, don't make too much of a mess and feel free to have fun with the knives. The garbage is here. If you see a vegetable that needs a good slicing, give it a go. Just drag the cut items into the hole so the cutting board stays clean. Don't worry about what to say. Anything will do as long as you're talking about the product. The viewers love it all. They eat it up."

"Heh, yeah! They're gonna want to eat it up if I'm cutting it up! No sense in wasting food!"

Backing away slightly, the dark haired helper scooted back to his boss's side, obviously frightened by the other's enthusiasm, a female aide quickly coming over to dress the new host up somewhat.

He was given light makeup but due to his non-shiny skin, Gin was easy to work on, a little bit of blush and a pencil for his light eyebrows and he was finished. A thick white apron, adorned with the company's name and logo, completed his look, a lovely blue collared shirt on underneath that Urahara had warmly offered beforehand, knowing that it was a style most television personalities wore these days.

Turning to look at himself in the mirror on the back of the studio's door, Gin posed, smiling lovingly at the blond fukutaichou.

"Naa, how do I look, Izuru? Kinda cute, ne?"

"You look wonderful, Ichimaru-taichou." He cleared his throat slightly. "I was told to watch from backstage so I'll be right there if you need me."

He pointed to an area behind the kitchen's background scenery, somewhere for the helpers and gophers to sit in case something was immediately needed on the set.

"There's a television back there so I can see how you're doing."

The young taichou leaned forward and pecked the boy on the forehead, causing him to blush, a light chuckle sounding from the pleased captain.

"You're a good boy, Izuru. Go on now. It looks like they're ready for me."

-----------------------------

The cameras went on at twelve o'clock sharp, the floor manager pointing to Gin and the light haired shinigami immediately broke into a spiel about the benefits of having sharp cutting implements. The station manager sat backstage with Kira and after being ignored for the most part after smiling warmly at the boy, decided that it was easier to watch the taping and avoid his dark gaze.

"…and when you need to cut big things, use this one!" The young captain held up a rather dangerous looking cleaver, momentarily brandishing it like a weapon. "I guess if I cut one of these up-" He held a tomato. "-you can see how well it works!"

The plump fruit was decimated in a matter of seconds, leaving only well chopped chunks and seedy juice, the mess scooped into a hole in the countertop that the manager's assistant had indicated, telling their new employee that it was the garbage can.

"Now, I've got this pair of shears here and…oh, here we go." The silver haired taichou brought out a fully cooked and cooled chicken, carefully placing it on the cutting board and flourishing the scissors before the camera. "Lets see what these can do!"

The breastbone and legs of the poor cooked animal were cut off as if by a menacing blade, leaving a legless, gaping carcass and a very happily smiling shinigami.

"They can cut right through bone! How's that for sharpness?"

Eyeing the audience, Ichimaru picked out quite a few women and changed his pace slightly, knowing that girls like Hinamori-kun and Ukitake's young subordinate, Kuchiki-san loved small things that could be easily concealed for safety and whatnot.

From the large but nearly completely shown collection, he procured a handy set of matching knives meant for paring, one with a curved tip and two with sharp points.

"These little ones are for those of you who enjoy garnishing your food! I can't imagine how many little things I could do with a daikon radish or a stick of celery!"

From under the counter, already cut into strips, were the aforementioned vegetables, a quick flick of his wrist and the ever-smiling captain had palm tree celeries and squid daikon sitting in a neat little row.

The audience clapped while he scraped the cuttings into the garbage and with a damp cloth, wiped the countertop. His next trick, after the commercial break and his nearly monotone speech read from the teleprompter, involved paper and thankfully, the stage assistant had brought it out, along with Kira, who handed Gin his zanpakutou. After a brief, whispered chat, the elder swordsman again pecked the blond on the forehead and gave his bum a pat as he walked off, much to the horror, and glee, for some of the surrounding staff.

The floor manager again pointed to him as his second half came up, the audience clapping to welcome him back. The paper was thick, almost card stock, and he held it on its edge so the viewers at home could see just how thick it really was, his other hand flicking it so it would make noise.

"This is the thickest paper we could find at the moment and even with a sharp pair of office scissors, it was cut unevenly and the edges are frayed. The scissors used were obviously dull, even though they were brand new out of the package!"

Of course he was ad-libbing again and the station manager smiled broadly, enjoying how a few of the audience members sat forward in their seats, nodding to his every word.

"So, here we have the basic chopping knife in the set and I'm gonna demonstrate just how sharp they really are."

Taking the long object in his right hand, he carved the blade into the solid stone cutting board, shaving the material into a small pile, then lifting it to reveal a seemingly unmarked surface. The crowd oohed and ahhed over it before he lifted the paper and firmly but neatly sliced quarter inch slivers from it, each little piece falling to the counter and floor.

"Not a knick in the blade and it cuts through this paper like…well, like a knife through paper! And don't forget, if you call in the next thirty minutes, you can move up from the basic set to the deluxe set for the same price! Just mention the word 'shikai' when you order!"

The audience laughed and from under the counter, he brought out his beloved zanpakutou, much to the chagrin of the station manager but to the people watching the show live, it was immensely exciting, no doubt an addition to the already thrilling show.

"Here, ladies and gentlemen, I have a traditional samurai sword. It's my own personal weapon and I love it dearly. I sharpen it everyday and I oil its scabbard to prevent it from sticking when it needs to be pulled out. The length to which normal sword masters go to hone their weapons is legendary."

He grinned as he set the item down on the counter and craftily folded a large sheet of paper into a small square, lifting the sword to eye level and masterfully sliced at it after tossing it into the air, listening to the gasps of the crowd and watching the tiny bits falling to the floor, quickly snatching the now cut square from the air and setting his sword down.

"Now, lets see just what I've created, ne?"

Unfolding it, he smiled broadly and pulled the paper flat, a long chain coming out, like that of a children's craft. There were nine little bodies holding hands, their shape and hairstyle unmistakably those of his blond lover. The station manager chuckled and watched as Kira blushed backstage, turning his chair so he wouldn't have to see the larger man's odd gaze.

"Naa, it's a cute paper chain! And you see how easily the sword cut the paper, as well as how easily the knife cut it? That's the genius of this new and improved set."

Taking a pose after re-sheathing his sword and stepping slightly closer to the camera, instructed by an unseen stagehand off to his right.

"We have a little saying here that makes sense now that you've seen how wonderful our product is, especially when compared to a professionally designed and cared for ancient weapon."

Red eyes peered into the camera amidst a brilliant smile.

"Your knives are guaranteed to be sharp because here at the company, Ginsou-" He held up the largest of the cleavers. "-is just as sharp as Shinsou."

The sword was held up beside the other object, throughout a loud round of applause from the audience and the cameras abruptly turned off.

-----------------------------

In the station manager's office, the man and his assistant stood, their faces somewhat ashen because of the situation that had recently occurred, the infomercial having gone perfectly but unfortunately, their new host had declined a second show.

With a broad grin on his face and an arm wound around his blond friend, the neatly dressed shinigami had politely refused, had accepted his payment for the single episode and had walked out with a skip in his step, Shinsou tucked neatly under his arm. In Kira's right hand was a bag, filled to the brim with products from the company's new line of knives, complete with all the accessories he had spoken on camera about earlier.

"He was the best fucking host we've ever had. How do we replace someone like that?"

"I don't think we do, sir. The company's ruined. We can't even run the basic commercial for the new set because the man we hired for them is bitter and unpleasant compared to…" He peered at the silver haired man's resume again to read his name. "…Gin."

"Call the president of the company. Tell him to pack it in."

"…hai."

---------------------------

"Wasn't I cute, Izuru! Oh, that was so much fun!" Gin slid a hand around to snatch the bag from his lover and peered inside, cooing over the shiny objects. "I think I'll leave these for Urahara-san. I don't think they'd be any good in Soul Society."

"I think you're right, Ichimaru-taichou. Just leave them behind. He'll be thrilled, I'm sure."

A brilliant smile greeted the boy as the taller man turned slightly to regard him, eagerly entering the Urahara Shoten and handing over the bag to the shop's eccentric owner, waiting patiently while the hat toting blond exclaimed over each sparkly item.

"Sankyuu, Ichimaru-taichou! These will make my attempts at sushi much easier!"

The two elder shinigami smiled at each other before the silver haired one moved to take Kira's hand again, heading back to the room with the Senkai gate, waving and voicing his goodbye's in his traditional Ichimaru way.

"Bye-bye, Ichimaru-taichou-san! Kira-fukutaichou-san! Give my hellos to Abarai-fukutaichou! Tell him his former boss was asking about him!"

Kira waved back at the other blond and smiled a bit before following his lover home, grimacing as the bright light surrounded them and drew them back into the comforting arms of their beloved homeland.


	4. Zaraki Kenpachi

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM!

Warnings: Crack. Humour. Obliviousness of the eleventh squad variety. Human error and childish behaviour. AU (as all my Job Hunt's are).

Notes: Again, special thanks to my brother who gave me the premise for Zaraki Kenpachi's Job Hunt, and in keeping with my 'thug life is togetherness' theme, I've also brought in Kusajishi Yachiru, Ikkaku Madarame and Ayasegawa Yumichika. I can't have a Ken-chan story without them.

-----------------------------

"So what are ya tellin' me? That I have to fuckin' protect people?"

"No, no, no! You're only going to pretend to, but if a situation comes up that calls for you to do so, can I assume that you will go along with it and help?"

The gruff eleventh division captain glowered at the blond shop owner but nodded anyway, gravely giving in to whatever the man wanted of him, knowing that because of Genryuusai-dono's mandate, he had to participate in the new program each shinigami of high standing was being put through. As it was, he hated it already.

"Fuckin' yeah, I guess I'd help. I can't just say no, can I?"

A shake of the former shinigami's head gave him his answer and with a heavy sigh, the rather large taichou ducked out of the small shop, followed closely by his fukutaichou, his third seat and his fifth seat, respectively.

"This better be worth missin' the fall festival for. I had money down on that fuckin' Tetsuzaemon. He's supposed to be a real light hand in the archery tournament."

The two lesser male shinigami stared at their captain before being glared into submission, the pink haired fukutaichou grinning adorably from her place atop Zaraki's shoulder.

"Shaddup about that. Archery's a goddamn traditional sport. You're all supposed to like it."

"Of course, Taichou!" They replied in unison.

-------------------------

At the Karakura police department, they had a new area set up for a special set of forces, namely a group of officers specially trained for situations that required a bit more force than was normally necessary. Essentially, a SWAT team. Amongst the new human recruits, stood the members of the eleventh division, including Yachiru, who, after proving to the police chief that she could indeed hold her own, had been stationed beside her much larger companion as his partner. Zaraki, as it turned out, was the new squad's captain.

"All right. We've got a situation already that could use this squad's expertise." The short but commanding chief pointed out. "There are two men in a home downtown who refuse to surrender to us, even after ten hours of negotiations. They have no hostages but they have informed us that they're armed."

For safety reasons, the new recruits were not allowed to have firearms but they had riot gear, which made Ikkaku and Zaraki happy enough, even Yachiru, with her pink shield, flowered riot helmet and bright orange baton, smiled as she usually did when she was excited. Yumichika however, was less than impressed but was still eager to see his friends fight.

"All right ya bastards! Let's do this shit right!" The no longer belled but still spiky haired Kenpachi called out.

"Hai, Taichou!"

-------------------------------

While the human officers made their way to the captured building in their support vehicles, Kenpachi and his squad made their way by the safest way possible, a shinigami's basic skill of quick footedness coming in handy as they both ran and used shunpo to get there. They arrived just after the others so as to not arouse suspicion and stationed themselves just to the left of the surrounding team.

Yumichika stood quietly with a hand on Yachiru's head, keeping her in place as she squirmed for a fight, wanting to 'see Ken-chan bust some heads real good', Ikkaku to his right, busily twirling his baton as if it were Hozukimaru, getting not a few weird and admiring looks from the living troops. He smirked a bit and stepped up to Zaraki's side, gesturing towards the stationed officers, each one with their weapons drawn and their faces grimly set into frowns and grimaces.

"Oi, Taichou? We gonna let these bastards have all the fun?"

A snort. "Are ya kiddin'? Just watch."

The bald shinigami turned to look at the chief, who had donned his helmet and had stepped up to the front of the approaching line, a megaphone in his hand.

"All right, you in there. We've surrounded your position and we're not backing down. By order of the Karakura police, exit the premises now or we'll send in the SWAT team."

A baseball-capped head poked itself into a small window and hollered out, offering a warning shot that clipped the road in front of the closest squad car.

"We're not comin' out! You can all just fuck off!"

The short police leader turned to Zaraki, who nodded as if in understanding, backing off as he let the large SWAT member pass, trying not to stare at the vicious grin plastered on the man's face, his comrades sharing the creepy smile as they lined up along the road where the gunshot had landed.

The criminal's eyes widened slightly as he regarded the size of the special forces team leader, the man unhelmeted but covered in bulletproof vest and leg armour, a rather nasty looking length of baton in his right hand while the left remained empty of the shield most of the others carried. His teammates as well, bore no heavy, Plexiglas shields.

The first crook disappeared out of the window to turn to his partner, whispering loudly and in quite a panic.

"That's the new team they talked about on the fuckin' TV last week! You said they wouldn't bring them out for this shit! Look at their fuckin' captain!"

His companion snarled and got up, leaning out of the window, his gun resting on the sill before he let out a barrage of bullets, hitting dead space and concrete as his targets disappeared. He stared dumbfounded at the ground, looking around and narrowly catching sight of a blue uniform as Yumichika's baton came down upon his head, smashing him to the floor. He grunted in pain as his world blacked out, not dead but certainly unconscious, the sound of the other criminal crying out in pain echoing in his ears before he lost all consciousness.

Happily, Yachiru stood on the broken body of her captive, his eyes wide as he stared around the small body, his right arm broken and his right ankle twisted to nearly the breaking point, Ikkaku standing above his head, tapping his baton against the chair beside himself.

"Bet ya thought since she's just a kid, ya had a chance, huh? Dumb bastard."

The little pink haired shinigami grinned cutely and jumped up, only to come back down on the man's stomach, garnering a groan from him and a stifled sound of the crook from coming close to vomiting, more than likely wishing he had made a different life decision that morning.

"Naa, Baldie. He's kinda fun. Can we keep him?"

"Ya gotta ask Taichou. He's gotta have a say, remember?"

She pouted slightly but not for long, calmly hopping off of her human trampoline and heading for the hunkered down captain, jumping back up onto his shoulder and clinging for dear life.

"Naa, Ken-chan? Baldie says I can keep the fat one over there. Can I?"

The third seat stammered with slight surprise and anger, knowing full well that that wasn't what he had said to the girl. He turned away when the large shinigami looked up at him, then down to the broken captive.

"What do ya want with a broken toy, brat? I'll take ya hunting when we get home. How's that?"

She squealed and hugged his head, far too small to get her arms around his chest or even his leg, had she been on the ground, crushing his hair and gaining herself a swat as the gruff taichou re-adjusted the crumpled spikes.

"Yay! I'm gonna bring home a big, bloody one!" She wailed in his ear.

--------------------------

Back outside, the police chief congratulated them all on a job well done, but he had questions for Zaraki, namely, how they had moved so quickly, as to avoid the gunfire. Not used to praise and embarrassed by the people standing around them, Kenpachi shrugged and answered simply and to the point, no doubt irritating the surrounding media and spectators.

"We moved. S'fuckin' stupid to stand and take a hit from some snot nosed brat."

Of course, for the television audience, the overpowering shinigami's words were censored, only telling people that they had moved out of the way to avoid the dangerous situation. The three eleventh division men groaned at how pathetic the dub job for their captain was, when they watched the details that night at the Urahara Shoten.

Halfway through his fourth bottle of sake, Ikkaku got brained after telling the elder man that he sounded like a 'fuckin' pansy', much to the delight of Yachiru and Yumichika, both of whom sat quietly on the other side of the table with their drinks, fruit juice for Yachiru and red wine for Yumichika, just barely hearing the end of a news story on the newest fashions.

"Really, you're both such animals. What kind of example is that for our dear fukutaichou?"

The girl squirmed through a yawn, obviously tired from the day's excitement but not willing to relinquish her warm spot in the dainty shinigami's lap.

"Naa, Freaky Brows. It's ok for me to hear that. Ken-chan says it'll make a man outta me!"

The feminine swordsman scoffed and patted the little one's head. "You're a girl, fukutaichou. You don't want to end up like Ikkaku, right?"

She looked from the dark haired fifth seat to the bald third. "Maybe you're right."

Madarame just scowled and slammed back the rest of his drink, pushing aside the bottle and promptly collapsing backwards onto the rather unforgiving tatami mats.

"I guess he's not as tough as we gave him credit for."

Zaraki gave the noble Ayasegawa an odd look. The fuck you talkin' 'bout? He put away more than she did." he pointed to her still full glass. "'Sides, she's drinkin' goddamn juice."

The little vice captain looked at her father with a glare that promised imminent pinches or a temper tantrum.

"I'm drinkin' what Freaky Brows is! Mine's red too!"

The once wandering Zaraki resident rolled his eyes and waved his hand to admit his defeat, listening tiredly to her squeal of delight at having won the argument. She leaned forward and snatched her cup, sipping it the way she saw the men do and after finishing it, fell asleep in the delicate shinigami's lap, content with the idea that in her mind, she had been drinking strong alcohol like her father and his friends.

What a shame, Urahara thought to himself, busily tidying up around the now slumbering bodies, each one snoring away, even the little one.

"Why did I ever leave that life behind?"

-------------------------

Upon arriving back in Soul Society, Zaraki reported to Genryuusai-dono's office and handed in the forms he had Urahara finish for them in the morning, his own handwriting atrocious to say the least and the captain commander had expressly forbid the eleventh squad's fukutaichou from doing them any longer.

He gruffly voiced his opinion on the new tasks for each shinigami but still managed to smile and call the white bearded leader a few choice names before being escorted out by the first division's vice captain, the formal man brushing his hands on his hakama as he moved back inside, always feeling somewhat dirty after handling the large captain.

Outside, Yumichika let Yachiru down and she hopped right back up onto Kenpachi's shoulder, smiling for no apparent reason other than because she was happy to be going hunting again, her zanpakutou dangling from her right hand, its little wheels spinning each time they contacted Zaraki's shoulder, a small packsack also hanging from her hand, something the elder man hadn't seen before but didn't honestly care about.

"Can we go to the big spot, Ken-chan? That's where the best one's were."

"I guess. Ya ready to kill shit, brat?"

"Yeah!"

"All right then."

The four of them left the clearing in the centre of the Court and hurried to the forest just outside of Kusajishi, wild animals already moving out of their burrows to see the shinigami who had disturbed them, a wildcat catching the girl's eye as she hopped down from her perch.

She whispered to Zaraki that she was going to start with it as her first kill of the day, setting her bag down and rummaging through it, the two lesser shinigami watching her with mild interest, while her father towered over the proceedings, groaning out loud and almost frightening the animal off.

Yachiru stood in her shinigami uniform but she had slipped her policeman's uniform over top of it, her shield held proudly in one hand, the baton clipped to her belt and her zanpakutou drawn in the other. She wore the helmet that had been provided as well, feeling all the world like one of the knights Yumichika had told her about from the living world's fairy tales.

The large captain moved so she could do what she wanted and watched intently from a tree above her, flanked by his subordinates.

"She looks so sweet, doesn't she, Taichou?" The feathered shinigami asked.

The two more manly swordsmen turned to glare at him, offering death in response to his fruity question. Below them, their brave little fukutaichou stood in the centre of the clearing, awash in blood of the slaughtered wildcat, its lifeless form now red instead of its former pale beige colour.

Never did Zaraki Kenpachi feel more proud than when he saw his young charge bathed in the blood of her enemy. He shrugged suddenly and chuckled a little bit, hopping down to drag the carcass away so she could hunt down something else. He figured that maybe their trip to the living world wasn't such a waste of time anyway.

Besides, who wanted to watch their comrades shooting arrows at fake targets, when he could send his daughter out into the woods to kill real targets?

Tch. Like there was even any comparison between the two.


	5. Kuchiki Byakuya

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN THEM!

Warnings: Humour. Crack. Non-nonsensical jabbering. Angst of the Kuchiki variety.

Notes: Yay, my fifth Job Hunt! And boy, have they ever started getting crack-y. Byakuya's gonna be so much fun to play with. Imagine a man who has had everything handed to him in life. Servants to wait on him and an absolutely influential, domineering presence. Then, imagine that same man put into the role of those serving him in Soul Society. Only in the living world instead. Special thanks to my brother, who gives me the most inspiration for these ficlets.

----------------------

A rather disgruntled, less-than-noble looking Kuchiki Byakuya stood underneath the awning of Karakura's largest fine dining restaurant, his eyes promising the man beside him imminent death if he were actually speaking the truth about the taichou's living world job assignment. Urahara Kisuke only grinned stupidly and held his hand out for the kenseikan the regal captain had removed prior to arriving at the establishment, begrudgingly handing them over because they were not a necessity and in truth, he was frightened of losing them somewhere but was also loathe to remove them, considering their importance.

In a flash, the blond shop owner was gone, and sighing, Byakuya entered the business, immediately being greeted by an overly happy man in a fine suit, one to rival Byakuya's own, one especially picked out for him by Urahara's comrade, Tessai. He straightened his back slightly and held his hand out as instructed, disgusted that he not only had to tolerate the living beings, he also had to _serve_ them.

As of that morning, Kuchiki Byakuya was _La Belle Fleur_'s newest waiter.

---------------------------------

"Waiter! Waiter!"

The dark haired Kuchiki slowly turned his head and amidst the busy restaurant, he found the hollering customer, a heavy set man in a plain suit, his hand held up to catch the server's attention. Grumpily, Byakuya nodded to the man, letting him know that he had indeed seen him, and that he would be there shortly.

"Yes...sir. How may I help you?" He asked hesitantly, still irritated with having to serve those he loathed.

"I'd like another glass of the chardonnay. And please remember the twist of lime this time."

The nobleman nodded and turned to fetch it, motioning to the bar with one hand and to the table with the other, the bartender noticing what the man wanted already, remembering from his first order. He finally made it to the mahogany counter and sighed softly, the lovely young man behind the bar smiling as he pointed to the citrus tucked over the glass' edge.

"He reminded you about his lime, didn't he?"

A nod.

"He's on his way to getting drunk, Byakuya. Just watch him when he asks for the third and fourth. He'll remind you about it every time and eventually, we'll have to carry him out of here."

The sixth captain snorted, scooping the tray up and balancing it flawlessly on the fingertips of his right hand.

"Why do you bother to serve him then, if he'll only become so inebriated that he ends up being a raving fool?"

The brunet rubbed his thumb and forefinger together in the universal sign for money, smirking broadly as the man called out to his waiter again, the high standing shinigami shuddering and scurrying off.

-----------------------------

Going on his division's substitute captain's orders, Renji had gone to visit Urahara about a comfortable gigai and a well tailored suit. He smiled at himself in the full length mirror and gave the blond shinigami a subtle smirk before disappearing out the front door, intent on some Abarai-style mischief.

In the restaurant, already tired from his drunken customer's rants and a child who found amusement from stuffing food into the pockets of his apron, Byakuya stood with his back to the seating area, his empty tray sitting on the bar alongside a glass of ice water. He loved the tinkling sound the water crystals made when he moved the glass and he hardly heard the hostess when she announced that he had a new table to wait upon.

He gave a little sigh and left his drink, flipping the tray under his arm and approaching the corner booth with a feigned smile, the facial gesture falling immediately once he caught sight of the spiky red hair sticking up from behind the booth's privacy wall. One red eye peered at him from the corner of its owner's face, half a smirk keeping it company.

"Ya look good in a suit, Taichou."

"Renji. What are you doing here?"

The lithesome fukutaichou stretched out and crossed his hands behind his head, avoiding his immaculate ponytail, with its red ribbon holding the mop together, his eyes roaming the length of his lover's oddly dressed form.

"I came to see how ya were handlin' your mission. Looks like you're tired and ready to come home, ne?"

The elder man dropped into the seat across from the other, resting the tray on the marble table and trying his damnedest to remain dignified, keeping his head up despite his desire to rest it on the cool surface before him.

"I'm exhausted. The people here are polite for the most part but some of them are also uncouth and ignorant. There is one man especially-"

"WAITER!"

Renji laughed suddenly, earning himself a grunt of irritation and a light kick from under the high table, the captain's dark gaze following his subordinate as he stood back up and made as if to leave. His left eye ticked, giving the regal Kuchiki a distinctly human appearance.

"Can I bring you anything when I return, Renji? I must serve this man before he causes a scene."

"Just a beer'd be nice."

"Very well."

Before Byakuya was out of earshot, Renji leaned over to the elderly couple seated to his right and gave a little chuckle, pointing to the retreating server.

"He's kinda good lookin', ne? Do either of ya know how long he's been here? I don't remember seein' him before."

The woman shifted over a little bit, whether from disgust of Renji's manners or just because a well-dressed but obviously rough and tumble man had accosted her attention suddenly. Her husband though, leaned back towards the redhead and whispered that no, he hadn't seen the man before either and yes, he was quite handsome.

The vice captain gave a little smile of self satisfaction at having captured himself such a hot lover and he politely thanked the pair, sitting back up properly and toying with a napkin, sitting forward just enough to catch brief glimpses of the elder shinigami as he flitted about from table to table, offering menus and bringing already seated customers their meals. Finally, after what seemed like eternity to the tired Kuchiki and only a few moments to his lover, Byakuya returned with a cold bottle of black beer and a frosted glass, more of the delicately shaped ice cubes chiming inside it.

The younger swordsman lifted an eyebrow at the ice and lifted a piece out to nibble on, thrilled as it was so cold. Having lived in a warm climate and only having been offered frozen treats while in the living world, Renji had never actually enjoyed plain ice cubes. He snatched the beer with gusto and poured it into the cold glass, watching with excitement as the slightly warmer liquid shattered the cubes, their now yellow tinted surfaces dancing in the clear object.

"Thanks." He took a long swig of the brew and sighed out loud as it hit his belly, carefully setting the thin glass back down, knowing it to be more dainty than a standard beer bottle. "So, when do ya get off work, cutie? Wanna come home with me?"

Renji knew the couple beside him were watching with an intensity that bored into the side of his head, purposely acting much more impolite than he normally would have with a prospective date. Byakuya was flushed from the collar up, his cheeks and nose starting to tint pink before he gave the younger man a sigh of resignation and nodded. To his left, the small woman leaned over and gently brushed his elbow, his brightly smiling face meeting her apprehensive one.

"Do you think you could ask your boyfriend there to bring us our bill? We're quite finished here."

"'Course I can!" He turned back to his now obviously blushing lover. "Naa, Byakuya, can ya bring these nice people their bill? I think they wanna get lost before I start somethin' naughty, am I right?" He turned back to the lady and her cheeks as well, were flushed with the obvious markings of an embarrassed blush.

The regal captain though, was beyond embarrassment. He snorted somewhat angrily and bowed to the couple as he passed them, hurrying to the bar and getting the correct paperwork and a pen, knowing from prior experience that day that most elderly couples in the living world paid with plastic cards that were equal to paper currency. True to his intuition, the withered man handed the shinigami his credit card and after having its number written down and his total tallied up, he scrawled his signature and as he took back the card, he was handed a few folded bills. He blinked but bowed deeply anyway, taking the money.

"That's for you to use in case you need to take a taxi home tonight." The man whispered. His wife cut in with a louder whisper, heard by most of the surrounding patrons. "Yes, that boyfriend of yours certainly does seem a bit rough. Please be careful. You're far too lovely to be taken advantage of."

Mortified beyond belief but a true nobleman to the core, Byakuya bowed as they walked away, his hand clutching the money tight enough to hurt. Behind him, Renji chuckled through hiccups, a sure sign that he was tipping over the edge towards a dangerous giggle fit. The aristocratic shinigami turned and stared down his nose at the redhead, his eyebrow twitching again.

"Mention any of this to anyone else and you'll find yourself on latrine duty for the remainder of your life, Renji. Is that understood?"

Shocked, the boy nodded and sipped at his beer, still smiling behind the glass.

"Hai, Taichou."

--------------------

"They said that? Holy shit. He musta been pissed."

"Yeah. He was pretty mad. He said if I told anyone, that I'd be stuck cleanin' the shitter forever, so keep your trap shut."

"Hai, hai. So what else did they say to him?"

Renji sat in Ikkaku Madarame's room with the bald man across from him and the third division's vice captain beside him, Kira's delicate face coloured pink from the subject matter and the contents of two sake bottles in his belly.

"Nothin'. I sat around for a while but it started gettin' busy so I hauled ass. He was gettin' kinda pissed with me too. I figured it out when he kept starin' at me from across the room. He glared even."

"Pussy. He was just bein' cold to ya because he was tired. Give him time."

The blond fukutaichou agreed with a little nod, slowly falling to the side from the sleepiness brought on by the booze, his head pillowed against Renji's shoulder. The larger man sighed and moved to stand, scooping the boy up and carrying him towards the door.

"I'm gonna take Kira home and then get to bed. Byakuya'll be lookin' for me if I'm not home by two."

Ikakku snorted and waved a vague goodbye, tucking his tall form onto his futon and rolling onto his side, his back to the other shinigami. It was a friendly, familiar thing between them all and Renji smiled as he let himself out, closing the screens behind himself and taking to the walls, dropping the smaller man off with his captain, a whispered thank you given by the grinning taichou as he took his little charge and disappeared into the depths of the third squad's barracks.

Why Ichimaru had been there and not at his own home asleep, Renji didn't know. He shrugged and headed towards the Kuchiki estate, wondering just what Kira's connection to his captain was, shivering a bit when he thought about a relationship similar to his and Byakuya's.

--------------------

In front of his mirror in the semi-darkness of his candlelit bedroom, the formal clan leader stood still, looking at his form in the borrowed clothes, having asked the blond cast away if he could keep them, wanting a souvenir from his rather burdening, irritating mission. While out of his gigai, his form still looked lovely in the pressed suit and as Renji stepped in, Byakuya caught himself blushing again, the pony tailed shinigami's low whistle of appreciation causing it.

"Very nice, Taichou. Are ya feelin' up to a bit of roleplay tonight? I think I've still got my outfit from the bar somewhere..."


End file.
